I'm not crazy
by xnightwing
Summary: He deserved to die, because he killed them. He deserved it. So why does everybody act like I am crazy when I gave him what he deserved?
1. Here lies Sanity

The metal door opened revealing two guards, and a girl in between them. She looked pissed, and like she was going to kill somebody the next chance she got.

"LET GO OF ME!" She was being manhandled, and you could see the hatred in her eyes. As they continued she started to thrash, and ended up kicking one of the guards in the shins. His eyes watered with tears as they continued to drag her through the cells of Arkham.

"LET GO OF ME YOU JACKASSES!" They shoved her roughly, and she fell onto the ground in her new home. The Rogues stared at the girl, as the guards locked the cell door, and she got up, and started yelling in some foreign language at the guards.

"Voi tampitilor stupide te voi ucide, iar apoi lipi capul pe bețe în fața părinților mei morminte Idioților. Nu mă poți repara ce nemernici joc de mine să ies de aici înainte i-am tăiat gâtul dumneavoastră!" As the door clanged shut she stood up off the ground, and ran her fingers through her hair before sitting on the bed, and laying down. \

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Harley's POV

The girl came in looking like she had been run over by a bus, but she was feisty. I mean when she had a mouth on her like Jervis, or Harvey. Then she was thrown on the floor. I wanted to protest, but I was so shocked that a girl, not a woman, a girl was in with us. How did she get in here? She started yelling in a different language, then as soon as the guards had left she acted normal. Calm, and completly different than the insane nutso girl that I had seen thirty seconds ago. I was impressed, but if this girl was as insane as she acted I was the big bad bat.

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Alex's POV

To start off, my name is Alexandra, my friends call me Alex at least they would if I wasn't in a nuthouse, and I actually had friends. I don't regret what I did, but now I am suffering for the mistakes of others as well, and that just don't fly with me. I am dangerous according to everybody I know, but now now I am with the most dangerous criminals in Gotham. The Rouges. Batman's villains, the certifiable nutjobs. My name is Alex, and I am going to have the time of my life. After convincing the guards that I am crazier than I actually am I lay down on the metal bed covered in a pristine white sheet that is as uncomfortable as all hell.

What certifies craziness? I have asked myself this question a lot over the past twenty four hours. This time last night my dad and mom were in a fight. Yelling screaming, and being absolute jerks to my lttle sister and I. This went on for an hour before it got out of hand. I heard two sharp shots being fired, little explosions. I ran downstairs my feet pounding on the stair case I saw my mother laying in a pool of blood, and my father holding a black semi automatic gun. He turned the gun still smoking in his hand. I heard tiny footsteps on the stairs my little sister Katie behind me holding her bunny.

I can still hear her "Tati?" before my dad shot the gun once more, hitting the pipe, and killing my sister.

I don't remember much after that. I remember my dad dropped the gun, before I walked over to it picked it up and shot him. I don't know why he didn't shoot me, but I could see the brokenness in his eyes. He had shot his little girl, the little girl that was wrapped around his finger, but I know why I shot him, because in less than two minutes he had torn our family apart, and he deserved to die. He deserved to be shot right in the middle of the forehead. He deserved to be put six feet under. I had killed my father, and I had absolutely no regret.

What certifies craziness? I think it is the ability to live with an action you should kill yourself for, with no regret, and without crying. I never shed a single tear during the entire encounter. I might be in a juvenile center if I had, but I think the police when they came had expected to see a dead family not a single family member not crying, not saying anything, and with no regret. That is why I am suffering for my father's I refused to show weakness, and a whole lotta fucking good it did me.

I opened my eyes realizing I had drifted off. The door opened, and a guard came in. He led me out into the mini hangout area, where some of the other nutjobs were sitting around, talking and all that jazz.

"Here's your new cellmate." With that the guard left.

"Uh hi. I'm Alex." A lady with red hair came up to me.

"I'm Pam welcome to Arkham."

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**Sorry for the cliffhanger. Please review, if you review then I have more desire to update this thing, and when I update it should be Tuesdays through Fridays. Not every day, but at least once in that time period.**

**Sorry if the rouges seem a little AU. I'm trying but don't know if I will succeed Uh cover art was suggested by my sister. Oh right translation of the Romanian cussing**

**"I will kill you you jackasses and stick your heads on sticks in front of my parents graves. No you assholes let go of me before I slit your fucking throats." Or something to that google translate didn't like me so sorry if my grammar sucks in that matter. **

**REVIEWplease.**


	2. UPDATE

**Update, sorry, for the lack of chapters, and other stuff, but yesterday kind of was my birthday, and I am going to a water park tomorrow, but I will have updates for all stories, Anarchy, X and I'm not Crazy by Saturday, and it will be I'm not crazy later today probably around 5-6, and Anarchy on Friday with X finishing it off on Saturday. Note school for me is starting soon, so I will try to update, but I can't update as much since I have to start to get ready for school, and the fact of the matter is that school matters more than fanfiction, no matter how much I wish that was not the case, so expect updates on the weekends, and please review, and rate, or whatever, I love critics, whether positive or negative criticism.**

**Have a great week/weekend.**

**X**


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